A Malfoy Complex
by Billie Hart
Summary: Harry is upset about being a virgin at 16, and attempts to fix this dilemma.


**A Malfoy Complex  
**

There were certain things in life that Harry Potter didn't even claim to understand. Divination, for one thing, and how Hermione could openly abject to his hate of Ancient Ruins for another. But, among those things that Mr. Harry Potter didn't understand was why, at his ripe age of sixteen, he was still, technically, a virgin.

Given, he had dated girls and fooled around with them, and had basically done everything _but_ actual penetrating sex. And this, he was reluctant to admit even to himself, perplexed him. If he was a woman, and, god faring, he never would be, he would sleep with himself.

Or that may have just been the ego talking. But, the fact of the matter was that he still hadn't managed to "get any" in all his few years of physical adulthood. He wouldn't have minded this, hell, he would have been _proud _of this small accomplishment had he not been forced to face the fact that _everyone_ else in his house-hell, even across _houses_- was fornicating and enjoying themselves thoroughly.

And with the fact that boys couldn't get into the girls dormitories, sleeping in the same room as Seamus, Dean, Ron, and-dearfuckingGOD even _Neville_- became a task that was getting more and more difficult as the weeks went on. It seemed that each of the aforementioned boys had gotten their own little niche in the sexual world of Hogwarts.

He had heard some of the girls in his year talking about it, much to his displeasure of being forced to be behind him that particular day in Herbology, and he couldn't help but overhearing (or, to translate loosely, he eavesdropped like no tomorrow).

"…Dean's pretty well endowed, you know?" mumbled Parvati, trying to keep her head bent.

"I've heard he's hung like a bloody hippogriff!"

"Lavender! That's so crude," stammered Susan Bones, as she gently patted the dirt into the pot they were each supposed to be preparing, her face tinted scarlet.

"Well, how far have you and Neville gotten? I heard he can eat a girl out like-"

"LAVENDER!" shrieked Susan, her face redder than her hair at this point. This prompted everyone in the room to look at them for a moment, which caused Susan to look aimlessly at the table and mumble a faint apology. The room went back to it's pointless chatter after a few moments, and Harry started focusing on them again.

"Don't tell me he hasn't gone down on you yet, you've been dating for a few weeks now, haven't you?" said Parvati, who was rather partial to that particular rumor about their bumbling house-mate.

"He…he has…" said Susan trying to steady her shaking hand as she reached for a few of the seeds. "But we haven't…you know…_done it._"

"You haven't slept with him? But he's part of 'the fearsome foursome'!" Lavender said with a giggle. Hannah Abbot burst into laughter.

"What did you just call them?" she asked, tears swelling in her eyes.

"Well, they kind of _are_ the superstars of shagging around here! Think about it, everyone wants to shag at least one of them," Lavender exclaimed, tossing her blonde hair absently as she fidgeted with her soil.

"Lavvy does have a point," said Parvati, pointedly ahead of the rest of her little group, "I mean, from what _I've_ heard, Seamus is amazing in bed, is that right Hannah?" The other blonde turned a little pink before leaning over to them. She whispered something to the other girls, and Harry, for the life of him, wished he had taken one of Fred and George's extendable ears with him to class today.

Lavender's head shot up after a few seconds, with a loud, "SEVEN!?" only to be hushed by the other girls. They giggled amongst themselves for a few more moments. Harry had to think for a moment before he understood, and he felt a small blush creep over his cheeks, seven was a particularly large number for _that_.

"Well," Lavender added, "I know for a fact that Ron is delicious in bed. Honestly, all of the Weasley men have been rumored to be amazing, 'cept maybe Percy, and I'm happy to say he's lived up, he might even be better than Fred and George." The other girls gasped.

"You shouldn't lie like that, Lavvy, it'll give you hairy palms," said Parvati, chopping up small pieces of some herb that was supposed to be good for plants when placed near the root.

"That's masturbation, you moron," said Lavender, absently nudging her best friend playfully.

"Lying about your boyfriend's sex-skills is like ego-masturbation," said Parvati with a small smirk, "_No one_ is better than Fred and George, I know that for a fact." He heard the definite sound of a knife clattering against the table.

"You shagged Fred and George!?" whispered Hannah. Parvati just smirked more.

"Well, twins like twins," she said with a small shrug. The girls all laughed, but Susan was quiet for a moment.

"I don't believe it," she said after a few moments.

"Don't believe what? That she and Padma had a foursome with the Weasley Wonders? Trust me, she did, I had to hear about it for a whole bloody week, and I was jealous as _hell_," said Lavender off handedly.

"No, I don't believe that no one's better than the twins," said Susan, looking up again, her face still a little scarlet.

"Oh really? Who do you think'd be better?" said Parvati, who sounded a bit offended.

"Oh, come on! He's mysterious, dates a little, not too often, and is really, really popular," she said, a small smile climbing over her features. "He's bloody amazing at quidditch, the way he handles his broom and stuff, and I mean, he's all fit 'n stuff from being a seeker 'n all, so he has that bonus." Harry's ears perked up at the quidditch remark, and he raised a brow at the seeker remark.

"You babbling about _Potter_?" asked Lavender, a little confused. Harry was mildly insulted at the way she said his name.

"Not Potter, you wanker!" said Susan, shaking her head, "_Malfoy_. Draco Malfoy, the blonde devil in Slytherin house, I've heard sleeping with him is like sleeping with _god_."

"What?" said Lavender, looking at Parvati, who was nowhere near as shocked as she was, "Malfoy, That slimy little git? I've never heard about _him_ being good in the sack…"

"I have," said Parvati, "Padma says he's the talk of Ravenclaw house."

"Yeah, he's bloody popular in 'puff too. I don't know why you guys haven't heard all the rumors about him, besides, he's way sexier than _Potter_, Jesus Lavvy-"

Harry would have heard more, but he had to run out of the greenhouse as he was about to become inexplicably ill and infuriated at the same time.

-

That night, Harry decided, as he tried to drown out the annoying bumping of Ron's headboard against the wall (honestly, didn't _any_ of his roommates know to charm the frame of the bed, not just the mattress?), that he must do two things in his near future. One, he must get laid. Somehow, someway, he needed to have sex before the year was up or he would be forced to kill himself (on the off chance that it came down to that, he would also have to have a will prepared). And two, he needed to find some way to become much sexier than Draco Malfoy.

But, in order to become sexier than Draco Malfoy, he would have to try and figure out what exactly was sexy about the bloody blond bastard in the first place. That, in itself, would mean that Harry would somehow have to figure out a way to push his pure and utter hatred of Malfoy away and try and figure out if the git was sexy or not. Well, scratch that, he had to figure out _how_ Malfoy was sexy, as the jury already seemed to have decided that he was, in fact, sexy. He flipped over all too soon as he saw, from the crack in the curtain of Ron's bed, Lavender's flushed face as she was pushed back and forth on the bed, her eyes closed and lips parted as Ron's face was buried in her neck, before he erupted in a furious shiver of ecstasy.

Harry felt his eyes glued to the pair for a moment, thankful that they seemed to think he was asleep, as he watched his best friend hoist himself onto his elbows as he leaned in and kissed Lavender with more passion than Harry would have thought possible.

He felt himself turn scarlet as he saw the sedated, happy look in Ron's blue eyes as he rolled to the other side of Lavender, gently playing with her hair. She said something, but thanks to a silencing charm, Harry couldn't hear one word. Ron rolled his eyes and flipped over, pulling the covers over himself.

Well, that settled it, anything that could make _Ron_ look so bloody lovingly towards Lavender was worth it. Tomorrow, he would watch Draco Malfoy like a hawk, he would figure out what made him sexy if it killed him. He should get started on that will…

-

Luckily for Harry, it was a Saturday, which meant he had all day free of classes to skillfully stalk Malfoy. The invisibility cloak made this stalking much easier than it would have been without one, as it turned out Malfoy liked to spend a lot of his time alone.

Harry studied everything, the way Malfoy walked, dressed, talked, and even tried to figure out what potion he used to get his hair to stay back and hoped for a moment that it would even work on his mop of black. After a few moments of consideration, however, he decided it would be _too_ obvious that he was trying to become more like Malfoy if he slicked his hair back.

He'd take to the way he held himself, then.

Malfoy had a very distinct walk, and if Harry could just mimic that, he would be golden. Malfoy had a long stride, and he slouched just a little, giving him an air of nonchalance. He also, Harry noted, did this weird thing with his hips when he walked, sort of made them sway a little, close to the way girl's did, but on Malfoy it didn't look 'girly'-it looked blatantly sexual. Harry tried to do it a little, while he was shadowing the boy so very close to his own build, but the fact that he couldn't see his own reflection in the few windows they passed made it difficult for him to figure out if he was doing it right.

When the bell sounded for lunch, he decided that that was enough Malfoy-stalking for one day, and hastily made his way up to his room, where he stored his invisibility cloak and dusted off his clothes. He looked at himself in the mirror for a second, before removing his shirt.

Stupid girls, he _was_ bloody fit, it was just that the oversized clothes he wore hid that fact. He sighed, and the door swung open as Seamus walked into their room, stopping for a second to eye a shirtless Harry.

"Uh, 'Arry, what're you doin'?" he asked, running a hand awkwardly through his hair. Harry fought back a small blush and quickly made up a lie.

"I was practicing extra potions stuff and it exploded at me, dirtied up my last clean shirt and I was making sure it didn't burn me anywhere," he lied. Seamus quirked his brow, and for a moment Harry thought he was caught, before the Irish lad shrugged and moved over to his trunk.

"You can borrow one of mine, mate," he said, grabbing one of his smaller, weathered shirts that was a brownish teal color and tossed it at Harry. Harry tilted his head at the small amount of fabric and pulled it on, and, much to his surprise, clung to him enough to accentuate his broad shoulders and toned back, but not enough to make him look fruity. Seamus laughed, "Go ahead and keep that, I can never wear that bloody color anyway…yer lucky yer eyes are green man, chicks dig colorful eyes." With that, Seamus grabbed the sweater he had originally came for and left the room.

With the room now empty, he tried his best to stand the way Malfoy did, half-slouched with his hips forward more than anything. It felt odd, but it didn't look too ridiculous, and when he tried to sway them taking a few steps, the outcome was overly Malfoy-ish. He'd see how well that worked for now before he started talking down to people.

He Malfoy-ed his way out of the common room, and all the way down the halls until he saw Luna Lovegood sitting aimlessly, reading a book or something. She was holding it sideways, but he had long since learned not to question the ways of Luna. However, since she was the only female he'd come by, it was worth a shot. He cleared his throat a little, trying to must up his best Malfoy "I'm-better-than-you-but-that-makes-me-sexy" impersonation.

"Luna, what are you doing?" he asked, a little surprised at his own voice, it sounded almost like a purr was behind those innocent words. Luna jumped, and looked up, and seemed a little surprised at who was actually speaking to her.

"Oh, Harry…hi," she said. He was standing in that Malfoy way, but he decided that shoving his hands in his pockets was less comfortable, so he folded them across his chest. Luna's glassy eyes scanned over him, and he watched a small, faint, pink tint raise to her pale cheeks.

"If you don't hurry up, all the food'll be gone," he said, before tossing her a sideways smile he hoped was close to a Malfoy one. When she turned bright red and stammered a silly response, he decided that it was. She stuffed her book into her bag and stood, flushed and flabbergasted.

Really, he didn't quite understand it, but it seemed this "sexier-than-Malfoy" business was beginning to be easier and easier. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Malfoy make a girl blush and stammer with two sentences. He felt a slight surge of pride as he walked with Luna, the entire way she babbled about blast-ended-whats-its, and he caught her taking sideways glances at him.

He wondered if he could somehow get into Luna's pants before the day was over, but decided that it was just…wrong to try and do that to someone as damned innocent and bubbly as Luna. He wasn't paying any attention when he rounded a corner, and he slammed into another person with enough force to force him backwards, and, with a loud thud, he figured that the other person had fallen as well.

When he looked up to apologize, he found a bewildered and angry, and mildly flushed, Draco Malfoy. The blonde narrowed his eyes at Harry and then let his gaze wander to Luna. For a moment, Luna flushed a little deeper before looking away from both of them. Malfoy's eyes shot between Harry and Luna for a moment, then he stood and dusted himself off. Harry could have sworn he saw a plan forming in the despicable mind of Malfoy, but he'd rather not look paranoid by pointing it out. Paranoia, he reminded himself, was _not_ sexy.

"Well, Potter, you taking your girlfriend for a quick shag?" Malfoy said, fixing his platinum locks.

"Mal-"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Luna squeaked. Harry glanced at her, why did she sound so desperate to get that bit of information across? For all Malfoy knew, he _could_ be her boyfriend.

"Really? Than you have better taste than I thought, Lovegood," Malfoy said. Harry fumed a little, calculating how long it would take him to punch Malfoy in the face. But, then he realized that would have been very un-sexy of him. He calmed himself and stood, pushing some of his wayward black locks out of his eyes. It didn't help, because they just landed back there anyway, but he pretended not to care.

"Actually, Luna has perfect taste, Malfoy," he said, walking so that he was between Luna and Malfoy, eyeing him with the corner of his eyes. "And since I can't live up, you know you haven't got a damned chance." He said his last bit with his seductive, sultry drawl that he, apparently, could turn on at will.

And with that, he decided to sway away from them, and entered the great hall, a little pleased with himself. Only for a bit, though, because he soon decided he needed to be even sexier. Something about the way Malfoy could fall, get up, snark, and yes, even insult, was getting to him.

He'd follow Malfoy after lunch.

-

He followed Malfoy out to the quidditch field, and sourly wanted to turn around a leave before he remembered that the "way he handles his broom" was on the list of things that, apparently, made Malfoy sexier than him. Harry weighed whether or not holding his broom sexily or effectively was more important, because he was convinced there was no way he could do both. He let out a small sigh as he followed Malfoy into the changing rooms, and leaned against a wall, close enough to observe what Malfoy did purely out of habit of the day.

Draco Malfoy then preceded to slowly, almost seductively, unbutton his shirt, his crystal blue eyes closed as he leaned against the wall, removing button by button from it's fastened place. When it was open, he looked around the dressing room, which, as far as Draco knew, was empty. He charmed the lock shut and silenced the door before he calmly undid the button and unzipped his pants, letting them slide off his slender hips to pool around his feet.

Harry's eyes widened as he clasped a hand over his mouth to stop whatever involuntary sound would have escaped as he watched Malfoy pull out a rather impressive erection. Draco brought his left palm (Apparently, he was left-handed) to his mouth and, almost as if he was trying to put on a show for the Harry he didn't know was following him, seductively ran his tongue from his wrist to the tip of his middle finger.

Harry felt his heart speed up once Draco started wanking, the slow, teasing movements of his white hands seemed more like he was giving someone else a torturously wonderful hand-job than how Harry imagined any guy would wank himself off. Part of his brain was telling him that he should leave, because learning how to masturbate like Malfoy wasn't going to make anyone think he was sexier, but the less rational part of Harry's brain, and, much to his dismay, the lower part of his anatomy thought that there was a lot to be learned from observing this.

Malfoy whimpered as he continued, bringing his free hand to his lips before biting down on his pointer finger, letting out another agonizingly beautiful sound. He heard labored breathes and small moans escape from Malfoy, and they were so intense and almost musical that Harry felt his knees buckle. He managed to slump himself against the wall with minimal sound.

Malfoy stopped his ministrations for a moment, his eyes scanning the empty room, his face suddenly slightly pink as his normally neat blond hair fell into his face. Malfoy had forced himself to be silent and Harry tried to cover up the sound of his labored breaths.

Then, suddenly, Malfoy stared directly into his eyes, and Harry finally saw what made Draco Malfoy the sexiest man at Hogwarts. His eyes were sparkling, deep, sultry pools of mercury that swirled around his dark pupils. Malfoy stared straight at Harry-though the blond didn't know it- as he began to wank himself again.

Suddenly, Harry watched Malfoy's eyes flutter shut, as he roughly bit his lip, his back sliding further down the wall as his hips thrusted, and a loud, panting scream as Draco came, reverberating off the magically silenced walls.

Draco wailed as he came, and Harry suddenly forgot how to breathe. Harry watched Draco raise his left hand to his lips, his talented pink tongue lavishly licking up his own cum, and ohgodhewassohardhewasgoingto_die_. Malfoy flipped his hair away from his face, washed his hands and changed into his quidditch uniform before un-charming the room and the door. When Draco had left the changing rooms, Harry bolted for his room, because he was going to jerk himself _raw_.

He might, it occurred to Harry, be gay.

-

Harry couldn't look at Draco at all after that incident without getting a raging hard-on, and it was starting to get awkward. Potions class was hell, as Snape enjoyed torturing Harry by making him work with the blond boy.

"Damn it, Potter!" snapped Draco as he grabbed the vile of pig's blood before Harry added it three steps before he should have, which would have resulted in a nasty explosion. Harry blushed and stammered as Malfoy's fingers, the fingers on his left hand, slid past his as he snatched the vile. Draco quirked a brow at him, before adding, "Are all Gryffindors mentally retarded, or is it just you, Potter?"

Harry stammered out an apology and looked down at the table before he started chopping up mandrake root. He was bright red, and just wished that Draco Malfoy would spontaneously disappear so he could concentrate on how to word his will, as he was sure he wouldn't be able to get laid by the only person he now wanted to.

However, Draco wasn't pleased at all with his passive-aggressive reaction. He moved quickly, his speed from being a seeker coming in to play as he knocked the root out of Harry's hand and forced him to fall backwards into Crabbe and Goyle's table, knocking their potions to the floor.

"Potter, what the bloody hell are you doing?" said Snape as he glided over to where Harry was picking himself off the floor, covered in Crabbe and Goyle's potion.

"He knocked over our potion!" stated Goyle, as if he had just made a grand discovery. Snape glared at Harry.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention for you, Potter," said Snape. Harry fought back a smile; detention meant a night of annoying cleaning and backbreaking labor at the hands of Professor Snape, which meant that Harry would fall asleep from exhaustion and not be able to think about Draco.

He took it as a blessing, because his time to think of things that _weren't_ Draco was beginning to become very scarce.

"But, Professor!" squealed Hermione from three rows away, "Malfoy pushed Harry, Ron and I saw it!"

"Yeah," said Ron half-heartedly, pushing his red hair away from his neck. Harry could barely make out a small bite mark as he glared at them. The Gryffindor half of the classroom erupted in concurrences.

With that, Snape declared that Draco would have detention with Harry tonight, and took ten more points from Gryffindor for making too much noise.

Harry would have to make a note to remove his housemates from his will.

-

"Damn it, Potter, what is _wrong_ with you?" asked Draco, leaning against the work table across from Harry, ignoring the potion he was supposed to be bottling. Harry ventured a glance up, and turned scarlet at the way Draco held himself, his elbows resting against the table. He wanted to lung himself across the table, knock the bloody potions to the ground and-Harry stopped his train of thought and went back to bottling his potions.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, trying to focus on the disgusting, viscous liquid he was ladling into a vile instead of the impatient bob of Draco's hips that Harry could see out of his peripheral vision.

"You're lying, and you're bloody bad at it," Draco said, pushing himself away from the desk and moving to brace his arms on the opposite end of the table Harry was working at. Harry blushed, trying to keep his eyes on his work, and not let them wander up those deliciously firm arms, those slender shoulders, the pale curve of his neck, or the liquid mercury of his eyes…..

"Potter?" Draco asked, arching a finely curved brow. Harry blushed, staring into his eyes. He felt lost in them, and, as cliché as it seemed, he couldn't look away.

"I hate when you call me that," Harry said breathlessly, it was the only thing that managed to make it past his lips as his brain started swimming with nothing but the crystalline liquidity that he saw in Draco's eyes. Draco smirked, arching his brow in the way that Harry knew that something snarky was going to fly past his lips.

"So, sorry, _Harry,_" said Draco. It broke Harry's self control.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Draco by the shoulders and pulled him down, crushing their lips together. Draco let out a muffled sound of surprise, but that was all, before he leaned into the kiss, knocking some of the potion across the table. Harry's head was swimming, and he thought he'd be able to at least die happy now that he'd could say 'well, I tried' in his will.

He could live with that.

Or die with it, whichever.

He pulled away, and was amused to see Draco's face slightly pinker, and his eyes half hooded. Harry smiled, running a calloused hand across Draco's soft cheek.

"Why aren't you trying to hex me into the next millennium?" asked Harry quietly. Draco cleared his throat and stood, moving around the table so that he was standing next to Harry, and then ran a hand through his hair haphazardly.

"If I said that it's a natural reaction to kiss back when kissed, would you believe me?" asked Draco, glancing sideways at Harry. Harry arched his brow, then smiled.

"Nope, and you call me a bloody bad liar," Harry said with a grin. Draco smiled, and sat on the table behind Harry, and laughed a little nervously. The laughter died and there was a silence, and when Harry whirled around, he saw the confusion floating between them. It seemed like Draco was a universe away, and he wanted nothing more than to fill that gap.

When the fair haired boy looked up at him, and Harry saw, much to his surprise and pleasure (though, a few weeks ago, it would have been to his disgust) the lusty, hungry look in Draco's silver eyes. He pushed himself towards the blond, capturing his lips in a hungry, rough kiss as he pressed Draco into the table, his hands grasping at his hips, grinding into the others. Draco gasped, and Harry took advantage, sliding his tongue past the blond's swollen lips, thrusting and rolling, swiping across Draco's sweet tasting mouth.

Harry moved his mouth to the sweet, delicate curve of Draco's neck, sucking and nipping at the pale skin, earning delicious mews and yelps from his fair haired rival.

"D-damn it, Harry," moaned Draco, his pale, slender hands rising to Harry's hair, pulling him away from the delicious curve of Draco's neck. That, Harry decided, was not acceptable. He wanted to taste every inch of Draco's pale, flushed skin, and he would be damned if anything tried to stop him.

"Don't become a saint on me now, Mr. Sex-God-Of-Slytherin," said Harry, grabbing Draco roughly by the hips and hoisting him to sit on the table that, he had decided, would do much better than a bed.

"Oi! That's Sex-God-Of-Hogwarts, you git, and don't you bloody forge-BLOODY HELL, POTTER!" Draco really talked to much, Harry mused, his hands gently slid up Draco's shirt and his teeth gently nibbling at Draco's ear. Each button made him hotter, each whimper made him more desperate, and each time Draco did _that_ with his hips, Harry was more and more convinced that people had this whole 'opposite sex' deal all wrong, girls didn't set him ablaze like this.

Draco panted as he leaned back on his hands, Harry kissing his way down his stomach as he slid Draco's pants button out of its hole, and agonizingly slowly, pulled down the zipper on Draco's trousers. He smiled as he pulled the dark gray pants away from his hips, his hands trailing over uncharacteristically smooth thighs. Harry smirked.

"Jesus, Malfoy, do you shave your legs?" he asked. Draco, who had been saying nothing more than small coos and whimpers for a bit, snapped himself to attention at the obvious affront.

"I'll have you know that I'm not a faggot, Potter!" Draco said, his voice cracking uncharacteristically when he squeaked Harry's name. Harry arched a dark brow at him.

"Really, now?" Harry asked, having long since come to terms with his 'deviant' sexuality. Draco flushed as he looked down at Harry, who was snaking his tanned, calloused hand inside of Draco's green-plaid boxers. Harry was mildly impressed at how Draco could focus while he was fondling his cock, because Harry knew if it were the other way around, he wouldn't be able to think, much less snark.

"Yes, you wanker, I love wome-GOOD_GOD_!" Draco shrieked as Harry slowly ran his tongue from the base of Draco's cock, all the way to the head. Harry smirked as he swirled his tongue around the head of Draco's cock, watching the instant change in the blond's eyes as he teased him cruelly. Now, he figured, would be a good time to see what he had learned from shadowing Malfoy.

"What was that about not being a faggot?" Harry asked, his green eyes shadowed and his voice deep as he let his hand glide up Draco's body, slowly running his fingers over Draco's lips. Without prompting, Draco darted his tongue out and captured Harry's middle and for-fingers into his mouth, mimicking the slow, swirling, teasing motions Harry was doing with his tongue. Harry moaned, enjoying the small shiver of pleasure that the vibrating of his throat gave Draco.

"I-if you're not careful, I'm gonna cum…" Draco whimpered, and Harry smirked, sucking once more hard on Draco's cock before crawling up Draco's body. Harry gently nudged Draco's legs further apart, gently working his finger into him. He heard a hitch in Draco's breath, and he smiled as the blond leaned forward, burring his face in the crook of Harry's neck.

"See, now this whole 'I'm straight' argument of yours has almost no value," said Harry as he pushed a second finger inside of Draco, stretching him and teasing him.

"Just cause I'm straight doesn't mean that I don't currently want you to fuck me into oblivion!" snapped Malfoy, and Harry's throbbing erection was brought to his attention. Harry unzipped his pants and pulled his wand out of his back pocket, muttering a lubrication spell.

"Actually," Harry said as he slowly slid himself into Draco, stopping for a moment to let the blond get accustomed to the personal invasion. "That's exactly what it-"

"DAMNIT POTTER, FUCK ME NOW AND SNARK LATER!" Draco screamed, as he grabbed the back of Harry's hair, roughly pushing his lips against Harry's. With one last, hard thrust he was completely inside of Draco, and the blonde let out a low sound against Harry's lips that was either pain or pleasure. But, from the way that Draco was attacking him with his tongue, he assumed it was the latter.

He tried to hold still, trying to give Draco a chance to adjust to him. It was the polite thing to do, what with being in love with the bloke and all.

Wait, what? Love.

"Damnit Potter, start moving or I _am_ going to hex you into the next millennium!" Harry growled low, and pulled almost completely out of Draco only to roughly slam back into him. This earned Harry a slurred "ohgodyes" from his Slytherin.

He'd deal with emotions later.

With every thrust, Draco gave him a beautiful sound that made him even more eager, even more giving. With a hitch in his breath, Harry grabbed Draco's leg and lifted it over his shoulder, pulling the blonde closer to him. He wanted more, he wanted it all. Draco's arms clung to Harry, wrapping almost shyly around the dark haired boy's neck. Glittering mercury stared back at him, the shimmering pools drawing Harry in. Full of passion, he pushed harder and faster into Draco, and as he did he let his hand fall to Draco's cock, running up and down his length. Draco started to shiver, his soft legs trembling against Harry's shoulders as Harry slammed into him, his dark hair falling into his green eyes.

With a wail, more lust filled and beautiful than the one he heard from Draco in the changing rooms, the blond boy shuddered as he came between them, his body going limp as he shivered around Harry. The dark haired boy, thrust deeply into Draco once more, closing his eyes into the Draco's pale neck as he came, a small moan rolling past his lips.

They stayed that way for a moment, the realization of what just happened washing over both of them. Harry smiled as he nuzzled into the blond boy's neck, his labored breath and erratic heartbeat the same as the other boys. He pulled back and found an entirely different expression on Draco's beautiful face.

"Are you……crying?" asked Harry quietly, moving so that he was no longer joined with Draco, gently sliding the blond's leg down his arm. Draco bit his lip as he pulled away from Harry a bit. "Hey, hey…c'mon," Harry said, gently cupping Draco's face in his hand. He leaned closer to Draco, gently pressing his lips softly to the other boys, almost too tenderly. In fact, it occurred to Harry that it was almost _innocent_ the way he kissed Draco.

The blond was almost stunned under the soft motion, but Harry felt every muscle in Draco's body relax as he gently ran his tongue against his soft lips. Harry smirked against Draco's lips before pressing their foreheads together, gently running his fingers along Draco's tear-streaked cheek.

"C'mon, Draco, isn't this where you're supposed to be snarking or rambling about your sexuality?" Harry asked, a sideways grin pulling at his lips. Draco's eyes suddenly went from sullen to ablaze.

"Fuck you, Potter! Get away from me!" Draco said, shoving Harry away roughly that, had he not braced himself against the opposite table, he would fallen on his arse. Harry blinked, staring back up at Draco with bewilderment.

That was, at least, until he saw that Draco was trembling a little, his hair mussed, and his face scarlet. Draco panted a little before hopping off of the table, grabbing his trousers and shimmying into them. Harry smiled, running a hand through his messy hair and went to fasten his own trousers. He looked down, and saw Draco's cum on his stomach. He smiled again as he grabbed a rag that was resting on the far table, mopping himself off, before he fixed his own clothing.

"Draco, I-"

"Shut up, just….shut up!" said Draco, his voice cracking uncharacteristically. Harry laughed a little, still spent and happy as he began mopping up the spilled potion, they had bottled enough anyway, he could dispose of the rest before leaving.

Without another word to him, Draco moved to leave, still adjusting his clothes uncomfortably. But, as Draco walked passed Harry, he could have sworn he heard "Bloody sexy bastard…" as the blonde left. Harry could have laughed out loud.

So, he succeeded. He didn't have to die, and he had managed to become sexier than Draco Malfoy. Or, at least, sexy enough for Draco himself to notice.

He could reinstate his housemates in his will after all.


End file.
